


Head over Heels

by CGotAnAccount



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alcohol Usage, Fluff, M/M, SHEITH - Freeform, drunken accidental confession, frat AU, keith is a happy drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 11:39:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16618274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CGotAnAccount/pseuds/CGotAnAccount
Summary: Keith was definitely sure he was totally not drunk.Sure, maybe he had a few drinks playing video games with Pidge before everyone else came over to their frat house... and yeah, maybe he and Lance had gone shot for shot in beer pong.But he wasn't drunk.





	Head over Heels

Keith was definitely sure he was totally not drunk.

Sure, maybe he had a few drinks playing video games with Pidge before everyone else came over to their frat house... and yeah, maybe he and Lance had gone shot for shot in beer pong.

But he wasn't drunk.

Tipsy, he might possibly concede, if he remembered what the word meant. Perhaps a little bubbly, in a good way and not a Hunk on a roller coaster way.

The bass thumping over the noise of the party rumbled up through his boots and made his bottle buzz against the glass of the table it was set on – Buzzed, maybe that's what he was? Either way, not drunk. - Matt had taken over the role of DJ and was watching a mass of writhing sweaty college kids thrash around clumsily in their living room. Keith could see Lance and Hunk having what was either a dance off or a seizure right in the middle while Pidge tried to teach Allura the Macarena – or something.

It was a little hard to tell with his head hanging backward off the arm of the couch and when he closed his eyes his pulse started thumping in time with Matt's music so he was just kinda of letting them go lazily unfocused as the lights strobed across the room. It almost looked a little bit like those big Christmas trees that they put up in the center of town when he was a kid - all covered in colorful lights - except it smelled way more like stale beer and armpit.

He didn't really feel like dancing and smelling like armpit too, his legs were made of the world's heaviest jelly and this couch was so soft...

Keith let his head roll lazily back and forth on the arm before another heavy buzz of bass rattled his bottle and reminded him that it existed, so he twisted his neck to chug the rest in one guzzle.

Keith didn't normally get this not-drunk, but mid terms had been a bitch and it was the last weekend before break when all his friends were taking off to see their families for the holiday. He felt like he deserved a little extra for not failing or moping visibly.

Besides, it was awfully hard to frown or smile when you couldn't feel your cheeks.

At that thought he prodded the inside of his cheek with his tongue, trying to figure out where gums and teeth ended and squishy skin began at the moment a smile occurred just in case he had to make one on command and couldn't remember. Satisfied that it was all squishy parts and eye scrunch with no gum requirement he reached over to the table and grabbed another of the shots, confident in his ability to be social at a moment's notice.

He was so focused on the arduous process of bringing the glass to his upside-down face with his arm sideways and backwards - without spilling it all up his nose - that he almost didn't notice it had disappeared from his hand. Head cocked, Keith blinked at his empty hand, carefully squeezing his fingers just to make sure it hadn't gone invisible on him. He blew out a relieved breath when they closed on nothing, magic powers would be an awful secret to keep.

A warm chuckle thrummed from behind him and he lolled his head back again, arching on the arm of the couch to see better. Judging by the blur of white hair in his fuzzy peripherals there was only one person it could be.

“Shiiiro!” Keith crowed, pushing against the couch cushion with his heels and slithering backward over the arm. He hugged around Shiro's waist upside-down, inadvertently nuzzling into the seam of his jeans. “I missed you Shiro!” He mumbled with a mouthful of zipper before pulling back and scowling at the offending metal. He uncoiled one arm from Shiro's waist and twisted even farther, poking the seam sternly. “Bold.”

Shiro choked on the shot he had stolen, grabbing Keith's hands in his own trying valiantly not to press his dick into his drunken friend's face.

“Keith! You're ah-” Keith beamed up at him, open faced and swaying, “-happy?” Shiro hoisted Keith's malleable form onto the couch in some semblance of a normal upright position before disentangling their hands and patting him on the head.

Keith just flopped his head onto Shiro's shoulder, still beaming as he nodded. “Mmm happy now!” Shiro cringed at the strong smell of liquor on him and eyed up all the empty bottles on the table, eyebrows raising into his hairline.

“I see you had ah... a little to drink?”

Keith nodded wobbly against his shoulder, quickly devolving into more nuzzling as he slurred up at him. “I had a- Pidge drink.” He furrowed his brows, holding out three fingers. “And aaah- Lance drink!” He opened his palm wide, wiggling his fingers and patting Shiro's cheek with a giggle.

Shiro resisted the urge to kiss his palm, barely.

“So that's five drinks, buddy?” Shiro eyeballed the table covered in shot glasses and bottles skeptically.

Keith twisted his neck up to pout at Shiro, moving his patting hand to poke Shiro in the cheek.

“You-” He glared, but swayed when the squint made Shiro too blurry to see properly, “-you think I'm drunk.” He huffed a cloud of booze into Shiro's face, making his eyes burn.

“Of course not,” Shiro gasped out, “I know how well you hold your liquor.” He held his hands out in surrender, grabbing Keith's poking finger before he got jabbed in the eyeball and folded it into his own hands. Keith squinted at him with one eye again before he noticed his hands had been captured.

“Shiro!” He whispered loudly, leaning in conspiratorially and shooting a shifty look around them, “We're holding hands!”

Shiro let out a chuckled, squeezing Keith's fingers. “I suppose we are.” He nudged the side of Keith's head with his own. “Is that okay?”

Keith bobbled, wide-eyed. “Shiro.” He lifted their joined hands together between them and flailed. “This is _your_ hand in _my_ hand!” He gave Shiro the most 'duh' look that could possibly come from someone who was probably one shot from alcohol poisoning. “This is super okay.”

“Ah.” Shiro brought their hands back down as he dodged Keith's flails. “Well that's super okay with me too then.” He teased him with a smile, bringing their joined knuckles up to boop Keith on the nose.

Keith blinked at him for a moment before throwing his head back and giggling before he leaned forward and pressed a kiss right to the tip of Shiro's nose in return.

“Boop!”

Shiro froze as Keith settled back down into his side, still giggling and pliant as he played with their tangled fingers. His thousand yard stare caught a slack-jawed Lance across the dance floor.

“What was that!” Lance shrieked, shoving over to the pair cuddled on the couch. He whirled on an overly cheerful Keith, shaking his finger. “We had a plan Mullet! What happened to the grand gesture we've spent weeks on!?”

Keith just waved a still-joined hand at him nonchalantly. “Shh, he doesn't know.” He held the hand up between him and Shiro, covering his mouth. “We're just holding hands as friends.” He let out an exaggerated wink.

Shiro was blue screening in real time next to him.

Lance looked between Keith's smug eyeroll and Shiro's violently red gape, sighed and shook his head.

“Okay Keith. But make sure we're still on to _confess your feelings_ before the holidays when we all leave tomorrow morning.” He stared hard at Shiro, enunciating each word. “Maybe have someone there in the morning to help you with your hangover. Forever.” He paused and shot one last 'I'm watching you' hand gesture at the two of them before walking back over to complain to a bewildered Hunk.

Keith thumped his head back down on Shiro's shoulder, turning to look up at him with a sweet smile.

“Can you believe him?”

Shiro just choked out a small sound, freeing one hand and pinching his own arm before staring down at Keith's face in awe.

“No.” He breathed out. “It must be a dream.”

Keith squinted up at him, slapping the back of his hand to Shiro's forehead.

“Shiro, you look red.” He flailed himself upward, tugging Shiro by their other still-joined hand. “Let's get you to bed, you must be drunk.” He staggered toward the stairs, stumbling into people and walls as Shiro steadied him from behind with a silly smile.

Keith bumped the door open with his hip and shooed Shiro inside to his bed, rattling around for aspirin and water as he tugged off his clothing haphazardly. With a happy grunt he tugged the bottle out and slapped it on the dresser, before snagging Shiro's t-shirt determinedly.

“Off!” He insisted, throwing it to the corner as Shiro assisted his drunken efforts. “You gotta be comfy when you're sick.”

Shiro just smiled up at him, tugging off his jeans and settling onto the bed where he'd been pushed before letting Keith crawl over him and curl up like a barnacle.

“Don't worry Shiro, I won't let the hangover get you.” Keith pressed a loud smooch to the back of Shiro's head.

Shiro just grabbed his hand again and squeezed.

“Thanks Keith. I'll be here in the morning.”

Keith just nodded sleepily into Shiro's back and snuggled tighter.

“Forever.”

 


End file.
